Turning Point

Surprising ray of sexy light,                                       

perfume of Persephone,

came knocking, calling Me Sister.

She was the closest to a lover

that I have ever known.

(There was a bull, a rape, a funeral—

Did I dream it? Did I forget it?)

I don't know how I opened and took Her.

I stripped Her bare like a dead tree. 

I hung Her up, a menstrual rag on a peg. 

I snuffed Her flame.

Two kind words turned My wheel. 

I lit Her flame again.

The universe groaned,

and I realized

the sound was coming

from My own mouth.

And then at last I knew delight:

I birthed, creating birth,

and all My pain became gestation.

I birthed the moon, symbol of change,

and after that nothing has been the same.

When I changed,

‘Nothing’ changed forever.

Now I have become Change only;

and I can't change fast enough, funny,

though I have all the time in the world.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018